


Say You Won't Let Go

by SheeWolf85



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Insults, LV Issues, M/M, Name Calling, No Actual Cheating, Red makes bad decisions, Sexual References, emotional angst, fights and arguments, kustard - Freeform, mentions of spicyhoney, none of the kids belong to any of our boys, very brief and vague mention of past child deaths, worries about cheating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:48:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22412002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheeWolf85/pseuds/SheeWolf85
Summary: After a nasty fight with Sans caused by an LV flareup, Red leaves to try to calm down. He's convinced his LV is going to win; he's going to hurt his fiance. Sans knows better, especially after discovering something Red had tucked away on a forgotten USB drive.Sans is no dummy. He knows Red will always have LV. There's no cure for it, but there are ways to manage it. He's certain that they can learn to live and happily ever after, and he's not willing to let Red go, not yet, and definitely not like this.
Relationships: Kustard, Papyrus/Papyrus (Undertale), Sans/Sans (Undertale), Spicyhoney
Comments: 8
Kudos: 127





	Say You Won't Let Go

**Author's Note:**

> This is something I've been working on for a long-ass time now. It's kind of been a passion project of sorts that's given me fits.
> 
> It started out as two different ideas that kind of melded into one. I have a bad habit of getting inspiration from music and then going hog wild until I’m drowning in words that only sometimes make sense. Just for FYI, because I want to share, the songs that inspired this are “You Say” by Lauren Daigle, “I Don’t Wanna Miss A Thing” by Aerosmith, and “The Reason” by Hoobastank.

Red stared into the glass tucked between his hands on the bar counter. Amber liquor met his gaze, and he just stared as he thought. He’d gone too far this time. He could feel it in his bones.

_you’re pathetic, you know that?_

The words echoed in his head. He’d been so angry but looking back now he couldn’t even remember why. All he knew for sure was his LV had chosen that night to misbehave and that Sans had done something stupid. Big deal. He was the reigning king of dumb, thoughtless decision-making. The fight flickering through his memory was testament to that.

_you wouldn’t last one second in ‘fell. not one fucking second._

Who the fuck cared? If Underfell even still existed, nobody was going back there anyway. Aside from that, the statement wasn’t true. Sans was filled to the brim with mercy for fucking sure, but he had a lot of fight in him when it mattered. Given the right circumstances, Red was pretty damn positive Sans could kick some ass.

Didn’t mean he would, though.

_come on and fight me you coward!_

Red winced. He was the coward, not Sans.

He gulped down the last bit of his drink, slamming the glass back down on the counter before gesturing for Grillby to give him a refill.

Grillby said nothing as he poured the drink. He knew Sans well enough to make decently educated guesses about his alternates, and this alternate was moody as fuck tonight. He usually came in with Sans, but it wasn’t unheard of to see him here by himself. Grillby figured his temperament might have something to do with Sans, and he didn’t want to hear about it. If Red had hurt Sans in any way, he’d be far too tempted to throw the bastard out on the street short a limb or three. The only thing stopping him was that he knew his brother would retaliate regardless of how guilty Red was, and he really didn’t want to hurt Edge.

Red watched Grillby walk away, knowing his assumptions were right. He had hurt Sans, just not in the way Grillby feared.

_you won’t even fight back? you fucking idiot! i could fucking dust you and you wouldn’t even move to stop me, would you? ‘course you wouldn’t, you mercy-loving whore. you’re a shit excuse for a skeleton!_

The memory sliced through his soul. He downed his drink in one gulp, hoping to get so shit-faced he could forget what he’d said to his fiancé.

He stayed in his spot at the counter, refilling his glass until closing time. He didn’t dare go home. He wasn’t too sure he wouldn’t chase Sans down, and he sure as fuck didn’t trust himself to be calm about anything if he saw him again. He’d beg and plead and might even get violent if Sans resisted. Instead, he slunk around the alleyways until he found a decent spot to crash.

Just like old times, he thought bitterly. 

* * *

Sans sat on the couch, his hands clenched together between his knees as he waited. His soul was tight with desperation; he wanted to go out and find Red before he could hurt himself or anyone else. He held himself back. He wasn’t so sure that just seeing him wouldn’t be the thing to set him off. He had to be patient, wait and see if anyone called to come and pick up his fiancé.

Nobody called.

He stared at his phone on the coffee table, willing it to do anything.

He’d already called Edge, panicked when Red left muttering about finding someone to fight him. He’d known from the moment Red came home from work that his LV was acting up. It was the only reason he didn’t fight back and try to protect himself. He did his best to remind himself that Red didn’t mean what he’d said. It sure as hell didn’t make it sting any less.

Edge had confirmed that Red’s LV was in a state that day and only suggested to stay away from him. Edge had faith that Red wouldn’t actually hurt anyone. As tough and guiltless as he wanted to pretend he was, he was still a judge with a conscience. Anybody who deserved to die the way his LV wanted them to was already in the monster jail set up to keep those who deserved to be there separated from human criminals.

And so Sans decided to trust Edge. As he sat and waited for his fiancé to come home, he played through memories of all the good times they’d had together. He thought about why they had gotten together in the first place, and how Red had told him so many times that just being near him was like a balm to his LV.

He didn’t sleep. When sunlight began to filter through the windows, he got up and took his phone to the bathroom with him while he showered. As he got dressed, it chimed with a text alert.

He fumbled with the phone, nearly dropping it in his haste as his soul pounded in his chest, begging for it to be Red.

It was Edge.

_**Edge:** Red came by. He didn’t say anything, refused to speak to me. He showered and went to work. At least he’s alive. _

Sans sighed and sat down on the side of the bed. Red couldn’t even be bothered to come home. Edge was right, at least he was alive, but the idea that he refused to come home even to shower and get clean clothes tore at his soul. Tears began to form unbidden in his eye sockets as he sent a message back thanking Edge for the news.

So many thoughts ran rampant in Sans’ skull. Where had Red been all night? He hadn’t gotten into any serious trouble that Sans knew about yet, which either meant he just didn’t want to come home or he’d been with someone else.

He tried so hard to push that thought away. Red loved him; he knew he did. He wouldn’t spend the night with someone else. Not after a fight like that. Not ever.

And yet…

_you even fuck like a wimp, a stars-forsaken coward. missionary all you know? you ever think that maybe a guy like me might want somethin’ a bit more adventurous, huh?_

He knew he needed to get up and go to work. Fuck, but he was tired. So tired.

With a deep breath, he laid down and pulled Red’s pillow to his chest. It had only been one night. They’d been apart longer than that in the past. Before they’d moved in together, there had been times they’d go weeks without seeing each other.

He’d never missed Red as hard as he did now, though.

He pushed his face into the pillow and inhaled Red’s scent. He’d managed to stay hopeful all night long, but now he felt worn down. The idea that Red may have been with someone else kept gnawing at him no matter how hard he tried to ignore it. He could forgive a lot, but even he had boundaries. Don’t hurt Papyrus and don’t break a promise. Simple. Even if they weren’t married yet, the ring on his finger felt a lot like a promise.

Maybe that was just another one of his flaws.

He squeezed his sockets shut and sucked in another breath, pushing all the negative thoughts away. He loved Red, and he knew Red loved him. He forced himself to think about the night Red proposed.

He’d come home to flower petals scattered in a path from the front door to the dining room. All of the lights were off, but candlelight lit his way. In the dining room, the table had been set with a deep red tablecloth, two tall candles in the middle, and two place settings.

“uh, red?” he’d called, looking around for his then-boyfriend.

“shit—fuck—i mean, uh…” Red came out of the bedroom wearing a pair of crimson boxers with tiny white hearts all over. “heya sansy; you’re home already?”

Sans raised a brow at him. “yeah; same time as always. what’s all this?” He gestured to the table.

Red stared at the table for a second, absentmindedly rubbing the back of his neck. “it’s…uh…” His face flushed a beautiful cherry red. “i got somethin’ i need ta ask ya, sans. this is a date.”

Sans nodded. “is everything okay?”

Red smiled and nodded, nervousness slowly giving way to gleeful excitement. “yeah, it’s great. here, lemme take your jacket.” He came up behind Sans and helped him out of his jacket before going to hang it up. “siddown; I’ll get dinner.”

Sans sat down, admittedly a little wary. Red had taken a long time to shed his tough exterior, to understand that being romantic wasn’t a weakness. Once he let himself believe that, there was no stopping him from doing whatever he felt like doing to show Sans how much he cared. Not that Sans was complaining—not in the least—but this was a little extra.

Red came out with two plates beautifully served with steak, mashed potatoes, and steamed vegetables. He set Sans’ down first before his own, giving Sans a small peck.

" _bone_ apetit,” he grinned. Then his smile fell. “shit. fuck. hang on.” He got up hastily and rushed back into the kitchen. He came back with a bottle of wine. “can’t forget to toast.”

“okay, red, what’s going on?” Sans asked with a smile. He watched Red pour two glasses, then lifted his own.

“c’mon.” He held his glass out a little further. “a toast to us.”

Sans humored him, clinking their glasses together before taking a sip. It was actually pretty good wine. He’d probably talked to Blue to get recommendations. Regardless, the gesture was what mattered. They ate for a moment and Sans groaned with utter bliss, muttering through a mouthful to tell Red that he’d created a masterpiece. The steak was delicious.

A moment later, Sans noticed a small box on the table beside Red’s plate.

“wassat?” he asked through another mouthful of food.

Red grinned and stood up, picking the box up as he stepped up beside Sans.

“just a little somethin’ to tell ya i love ya.”

Then he sank down on one knee. Sans stopped mid-chew, his soul suddenly beating double-time.

“i ain’t never been happier than i am with you, ya know. you just make everything better, all the time. you’re so patient and good and i sure as fuck don’t deserve you.” He held up a hand as Sans started to argue. “don’t. it’s true. i ain’t givin’ ya up, though. ‘m too selfish for that.”

Sans watched as Red lifted the box and opened it. Inside sat a plain silver band.

“i wanna keep you for the rest of our lives, sans. the rest of forever. marry me?”

He felt the first tear slip down his cheek as he nodded. “yeah.” It was barely a whisper, but Red heard.

He pulled the ring free of the box and held Sans’ left hand steady as he slipped it onto his ring finger. Sans then tugged him up, kissing him deeply.

The memory faded as Sans cried into Red’s pillow until exhaustion finally won and he fell asleep.

* * *

It had been Papyrus’ idea. Of course it had been; Sans wouldn’t have started cleaning of his own volition if he could help it. But Papyrus had said it would help pass the time and help keep his mind off things. 

What he really meant was that it was a good way to ignore the gnawing pain in his soul for a little while. The idea of being able to get a bit of relief from that pain was why Sans had started in the first place. 

It had been a full week since the fight and since Red had walked out. Edge had called Sans to let him know that Red had rented a motel room, but he wouldn’t say where. He’d insisted that Red was too scared to come home, that he was worried he was going to hurt Sans and that his LV was still giving him trouble. He said Red just needed some time.

Sans tried to believe it, but he wasn’t sure. How could his fiancé choose to just leave like that? If Red really loved him, why couldn’t he say those things to him directly instead of going through Edge? 

Sans didn’t know the answers. All he knew was that he was pathetically in love and he was willing to give Red more time if he needed it. 

He had been cleaning up around the house for a few hours before he started on their shared desk. Everything on it reminded him of Red, from the notebook he’d often jot notes in to the many broken and chewed-upon pencils he had stashed away. Sans chucked the pencils; he could get Red more to chew on. 

If he ever came home.

He took a breath and shook his head. He’d come home. Eventually.

Alongside the surprisingly large number of pencils, Sans found a pile of USB sticks. Between the two of them, they had more than any household really should, some stuck in places only to be forgotten about until months later when they were found and put with the rest of them in the desk. Most of them were decorated with various gag items like a human finger, a strip of bacon, a stick of gum, and a packet of ketchup. 

He scooped them all up and decided to figure out what the hell they even kept on these shits. He set up his laptop on the coffee table and sat on a cushion on the floor. 

The first few were standard, miscellaneous files with random titles. It was pretty easy to figure out which belonged to who. Ones with titles like ‘mind yer own fuckin’ business loser’ were usually Red’s, and ones with titles like ‘fish antlers’ were Sans’. 

He’d made it through half of them when he stuck in a small, plain silver USB. There was only one file on it, a video titled ‘Maybe Someday.’ Curiously, he opened the file.

The video started with the image of a stool sitting alone in the middle of their spare bedroom. They still hadn’t decided what to do with it yet, so it was mostly used for storage of old boxes. Some shuffling was heard, then Red appeared from behind and looked into the camera, his brow furrowed like he was trying to figure out if it was working. He grunted, then stepped back and sat awkwardly on the stool. He was holding a guitar.

Sans paused the video. He’d known Red had a guitar, but he’d never been able to get the asshole to play it for him. Not once in the entire five years they’d known each other. Even after their engagement.

Granted, Sans had only ever asked twice. The first time was when he was helping Red and Edge move into their own place, about five months after they’d met. He’d found the guitar case and had assumed it was Edge’s. He wasn’t sure why; he supposed Edge just seemed to be the type to have more patience to learn a musical instrument while Red seemed like the type to get frustrated and obliterate it. 

“hey, you think your brother’d play us a little tune while we work?” he’d asked.

Red huffed. “good luck getting him to touch that.”

“why?”

“cuz he knows not to touch my shit. what’s it to ya?”

Sans grinned. “no fucking way. this isn’t yours; you don’t play.”

Red grumbled and snatched the case away from him. “you’re right about that. i _don’t_ play. not no more.”

Okay, so maybe it was his. Weirder things had happened. Like, say, a whole multiverse crashing in on itself causing him to meet a murderous, emo version of himself who apparently knew how to play the fucking guitar. 

“prove it. play something for me.”

The glare that Red threw his way was a warning. “i don’t gotta prove shit. leave it alone ‘fore i make ya.”

Sans held his hands up. Red didn’t make empty threats, and Sans knew he’d follow through with whatever he had planned to shut him up if he pushed it any further. 

“okay, okay. calm down.” 

They both moved on from the moment, and although Sans put it out of his mind as much as he could, he didn’t forget about it. 

The second time was a few years later, after the two had started dating and moved in together but before Red had proposed. One night after making love, they laid together on their now shared bed. Sans was tucked into Red’s side, snuggling into him like he was a giant teddy bear. Something about the evening had brought the guitar back to his mind. 

“hey, red?” he whispered. 

Red hummed back, his fingers deftly playing along Sans’ spine and ribs. 

“do you think you’ll ever play for me?” He shifted to look up at Red. “your guitar, i mean.”

Red’s fingers stopped their movement and his eyes closed. That right there was all the answer he needed, and he started to regret bringing it up. 

“you don’t have to answer that,” he said softly, laying back down. 

But the bliss from only moments ago didn’t return. Red was stiff and suddenly distant, his hands lying to his sides rather than touching anywhere on Sans. Sans closed his eyes and sighed. 

“i’m sorry,” he mumbled. 

“‘sokay,” Red replied. “just... i don’t like to think about it. or talk about it. i don’t even know why i cart that fucking thing around anymore.” 

Sans knew why. Regardless of whatever emotional attachment he might have to the thing, his past in Underfell made it impossible for him to get rid of something that might have value. He might need to sell it in the future to provide food or shelter for his brother, and while that scenario was bordering on impossible now that they were all living together above ground and making good money, Red was too careful to risk it. 

He didn't say anything about that. He just hugged Red and let the topic drop. Red’s arms curled around him again.

That had been nearly two years ago. Sans didn’t know why Red had the guitar in the video, but something in his soul tugged tightly with fear for what he was about to see. Red hated that thing. Or so he’d made Sans believe. 

He took a deep breath and pressed play on the video again. There was only one way to find out what he was doing. 

In the video, Red cleared his throat. 

“so, uh...hi. this...is fucking ridiculous, but whatever. edge gave me this idea. well, he actually told me to do this in front of you, but...i just can’t. if i ever grow the balls to show this video to you, i hope you’ll forgive me for that.” He looked down and settled his feet on the rungs of the stool, then positioned the guitar. His hands immediately found their places. 

“this is meant to be for your birthday. i already know i ain’t gonna be able to show you in a month, so maybe it’ll be for gyftmas. or maybe new year. or, fuck, maybe valentine’s. my point is that it’s fucking october and i probably shouldn’t’a said that. now you’ll know how long it took me to swallow my own fucking pride enough to give this to you.” He shook his head and smiled sadly. His fingers strummed gently against the strings of the guitar. Not an actual rhythm that Sans could tell, just aimless strumming. 

Red had recorded this six months ago. Around that same time, he and Red had had a deep conversation about change and acceptance, Red in particular talking about how much he’d changed as a person since he’d left Underfell and met Sans.

Sans swallowed and continued watching. 

“so anyway. maybe this’ll sit unwatched for the rest of forever until i get the urge to throw this fucking thing away along with the video.” He lifted the guitar slightly for emphasis. “you always were curious about it, though. part of me wants to just forget the past and build new memories with you, y’know? but i just can’t...i can’t forget what happened. i can’t forget that it was my own stars-damned selfishness that got so many people killed and my bro hurt so bad. 

“i know edge told you how he got his scar. the big fight with muffet’s clan and how half our people were murdered that night. he never told you it was my fault. fuck, i don’t think he even blamed me to begin with. but it was my fault. i was practicin’. i didn’t hear him tell me to stop, didn’t hear shit ‘cuz i was into it. i was gettin’ real good, too. they heard me, found my bro and our group. a lot of ‘em were kids. you know how the boss is, always makin’ sure the kids are taken care of, safe with food and shelter. heh. always tryin’ to be the hero.” 

He sucked in a deep breath. “so. that’s why i don’t play no more, ‘specially not for you. can’t help but feel like i’m gonna get someone hurt. i’m alone right now. you’re out with your bro, and i’m...bein’ a fuckin’ idiot. if i’m gonna do this i should just fuckin’ do it. no more puttin’ it off.” 

He shifted, settling the guitar into a better position and set his fingers. “i wrote a little somethin’ for ya. i love you, sans. i love you so fucking much it hurts. so here’s this. happy birthday. or gyftmas. or what-the-fuck-ever.”

He closed his eyes and began playing the instrument. His fingers moved deftly against the strings, the melody produced was absolutely beautiful. 

Sans wiped his face and sniffled as he listened carefully. The melody was one he recognized, but he couldn’t figure out from where. 

And then Red began to sing. He sang about starting over, forgiving himself, and learning from his mistakes. He sang about regrets and how he wished he could change the past, to stop from hurting the one he loved. The chorus was about changing, becoming a better person, and how Sans was his reason for making those changes. 

Sans recognized the melody now. It was one Red had hummed to him many nights as they held each other. 

By the end of the song, Sans was curled up as much as he could, bawling into his knees. Stars, he missed Red. He missed him like it had been years since they’d last seen each other instead of mere days. 

Red didn’t say anything after the song was over. He set the guitar down, got up, and turned off the camera. 

Sans sat in silence for a long moment, the only sounds his breathing and the occasional sniffle. He didn’t know what to do. All he knew was that he loved Red so much his soul ached and he felt so alone. He wanted to believe he’d be able to convince Red to give himself another chance. They were good for each other, Sans knew it. 

A few hours later, he finally managed to convince himself to get up. He unplugged the USB and slipped it into his pocket. He might have a plan. Maybe it was a horrible plan, but it was potentially better than nothing. 

He called Edge to get the address of the motel and room number Red was staying at. Edge had been unwilling to tell him where Red was before, but this time he gave the information easily. He asked Sans to help get his brother out of his cycle of self-hatred. Sans could only promise he’d try. 

To make sure he’d be able to put his plan in place, he packed up his laptop. He was pretty sure he wouldn’t have to actually use it, but it never hurt to be prepared. After another round of deep breaths and a reassuring self-pep-talk, he nodded to himself and went out to get in the car. 

The drive to the motel wasn’t long. The motel itself was shady as fuck, and Sans felt dirty just parking in the lot. He might have been afraid for Red if he didn’t already know better. Anyone trying to get the drop on Red was asking for a long walk off a short cliff. He parked and took a few more deep breaths before he got out and started looking for room forty-five. 

He thought about teleporting inside the room, but abandoned that idea when he realized it would probably only get him a weapon in his face. He was here to show Red that he wasn’t going to hurt him; startling him seemed counter-productive. So instead, he knocked on the door and stood out of the way of the peephole. 

“who’s’it?” came Red’s deep, sleep-deprived voice. 

“it’s me,” Sans called back. “please don’t run away. i just wanna talk.”

He waited on baited breath for a few minutes. He was almost sure Red had teleported away, but then he heard a lock click. The door opened, Red not bothering to stand there. He was already halfway to a small table by the time Sans shut the door behind him. 

Sans looked around the room. It was nice enough with a small kitchenette, a queen-sized bed with rumpled covers, a TV in a contraption that bolted it to the wall, a desk, and the table where Red sat staring him down. 

“you wanna talk or silently judge my choice of motel?” 

Sans shrugged. “nah, i get it. it’s cheap.” He already knew Red couldn’t justify spending more money than necessary, and renting this place was already more than necessary considering he had a house he could sleep in. He sucked in a breath and reminded himself there was no point in getting salty about the last week. 

Red nodded. “yeah. so?”

“come home.”

“that all you got? trust me, sans, you don’t want me there.” He said it so calmly, so sure of himself. 

“yes i do. red, whatever you’re afraid of, it’s not going to happen. you’re better than your lv.” He didn’t try to get closer. He sat on the bed instead. “i love you.”

“you say that like you got a fucking clue what lv feels like. you don’t.” He glared down at the table with hands splayed out. “you don’t know how close i came to actually hurtin’ ya.”

“you’re right. i don’t know what that feels like. but you know what i do know? i know you’re not the person you were back in underfell. you’re not the person who’s gonna give in to his lv because it’s easier than fighting it.” 

Red snorted. “how the fuck you know any’a that? i ain’t--” 

He stopped short when Sans pulled the USB out of his pocket. He stared at it like Sans had just pulled out a reset star, all terror and wonder and confusion. 

“i found this when i was cleaning out the desk. we both kept a lotta shit in there. if i’d known what it was, that you didn’t want me to see it, i wouldn’t have watched it.” He needed that to be known; he hadn’t intended on watching something Red didn’t want him to see. “but, i didn’t know, and i did watch it.” 

Red’s eye lights flickered up, meeting Sans’. He still looked so scared and confused, like his brain couldn’t catch up with what he was seeing. 

“i love you, red. i know you wouldn’t ever hurt me because you love me, too. yeah, shit happens, and lv’s a bitch, but do you really wanna give up what we have?” He got up and took a few steps to put the USB on the table. “it won’t take your lv away. it won’t make anything easier to deal with. i mean, i’m sorry but i gotta say that if you’re trying not to hurt me you’re doing a shit job. not even knowing where you were or if you were okay for a whole day after our fight hurt pretty fucking bad. then knowing you were alive but that you’d decided you couldn’t come home was awful.” 

He sat down at the table and pushed the little stick over to Red. He could destroy it if he chose. What happened to it didn’t matter to Sans. The only thing that mattered at this point was what Red decided to do about their relationship. 

Red flinched at Sans’ words. He nodded and stared at the USB for a second. 

“you really want me to come home?” he finally asked, looking back up. 

Sans nodded without hesitation. “yeah.” 

“you gonna ask me to play the song for ya?” he flinched again as he asked it.

“no. i won’t even talk about the video unless you want me to.”

He looked relieved. It hurt Sans’ soul to see it. 

“i don’t want you to. just forget you ever saw it.”

Sans smirked. “sorry, but i can’t do that. i’m pretty good at forgetting things, but not that good. all the same, i’ll never bring it up.”

Red nodded. “‘kay.” 

“so will you come home?”

Red didn’t say anything for a long while. The pause was silent except for the hum of the small fridge set up in the kitchenette and the creak of footsteps from the floor above them. 

Sans was starting to get concerned that his answer would be no. He couldn’t force Red--he wouldn’t _want_ to force him--but if this was the end then he’d rather know before his soul ate itself out of worried anticipation. 

Finally, Red sucked in a breath and looked up at Sans.

“i guess. this place is too expensive anyway.” He stood up and snatched the USB off the table and slipped it into his pocket. 

Sans helped him gather his things and went to the office with him to check out, then they drove home together.

* * *

Red didn’t deserve this. 

His LV shouldn’t mean shit. Sans’ patience and kindness should only stretch so far, and he’d been so certain that he’d pushed his fiancé past what he could handle. Red had been abusive, both verbally and emotionally. He’d lashed out because he was angry. Nobody in their right mind should stick around after something like that. He could apologize and beg forgiveness, but he couldn’t promise he’d never do it again. LV was a bitch like that.

But no. Sans hadn’t decided he’d had enough. He’d waited a whole fucking week for Red to come home before chasing him down. 

Red hadn’t expected any of it. He’d honestly expected Sans to call off their engagement and throw all of Red’s stuff out on the lawn to get drenched in the sprinklers. 

Sans showing up at the motel was a shock in and of itself. Red hadn’t thought about running when he’d heard his voice. No, the opposite. He wanted to fling that door open and pull Sans in, hold onto him and never let go. He’d told himself that Sans was only there to officially break up with him, even though on some level he knew better. 

If hearing Sans’ voice was nice, Red wasn’t prepared to see his face again. He looked tired, but fucking hell if he didn’t look like _home_. Red’s soul wanted nothing more than to just give in, do whatever Sans wanted of him and to beg for forgiveness he didn’t deserve. He’d argued, because his precious Sansy didn’t know what he was talking about.

And then Sans brought out the USB. 

Red’s whole world stuttered to a stop at the sight of it. He should have burnt it. Or smashed it. Dropped it through a shortcut and let it dissolve into the void. 

His willpower diminished more and more as Sans asked him to come home. 

Fuck, he wanted to, but he didn’t deserve this shit. 

He couldn’t stay away. He wasn’t fucking strong enough. 

Neither skeleton said anything on the drive home. Red kept his eye lights on his lap. The weight of the USB in his pocket was a constant irritation in his mind. 

It wasn’t that Sans had watched it. Red knew that Sans was being truthful; if he’d known that Red didn’t want him to see it he wouldn’t have watched it. It was that it existed in the first place. That Red had been weak enough to record it in the first place. He was flirting with fate and not in a good way; sooner or later he was going to lose everything. 

Fuck, he almost had anyway. It wasn’t worth it. Keeping that damned thing around wasn’t worth it. 

Red nodded to himself; he was going to get rid of that guitar once and for all. Maybe he’d sell it, pass the curse on to some unsuspecting human. He should have done that ages ago.

At home, Sans smiled gently before turning the car off and getting out. Red followed suit and walked silently behind Sans into the house. He shut and locked the door, then watched as Sans set his laptop down on the kitchen table. 

“you hungry?” Sans asked. 

Honestly, he was kind of starving. He hadn’t eaten very well over the last few days. He would normally buy lunch if he forgot to make something, but he couldn’t force himself to justify it when he had to pay for the motel room. Fuck, he was so stupid. 

He shook his head and shrugged out of his coat to hang it on the back of one of the kitchen chairs. 

“no. i think i’m more tired than anything.” He just wanted to sleep and forget for a little while.

Sans nodded. “yeah, okay. you, uh...you wanna be alone?”

It wasn’t hard to tell Sans didn’t want to let Red out of his sight. Still, he was prepared to leave Red to nap by himself if he wanted, as long as Red was at home. But Red didn’t want that. 

“you feelin’ sleepy at all?” Red asked, holding out a hand. He wouldn’t blame Sans one bit if he ignored it or even slapped it away, but Red was dying to touch him. He didn’t expect to be able to hold Sans in their bed, not yet, but if he was willing to lay down next to him, to let Red feel his presence beside him, then he would make that okay. 

But Sans smirked and slipped his hand into Red’s, holding on tightly. “when am i not feeling sleepy?”

Red nodded. “ya got me there.” He sucked in a deep breath, telling himself not to overthink. Just go with the flow, even if he was damn sure there were dangerous rapids ahead. He toed his shoes off and kicked them to the side before leading the way back to their bedroom. 

Everything about the house was exactly as he remembered it, if not a little cleaner. He wasn’t sure why that was surprising. He’d only been gone a week, yet some part of him felt like it had been years. 

In their bedroom, the bed was made with a different comforter than the one that had been on it when he left. He stepped up to his side of it and stared down at the pattern on the blanket. Something landing on the mattress in front of him made him jerk back. He looked up to see Sans smiling at him and a pile of clean pajamas in front of him. 

“figured you might wanna get more comfortable. did they even have a laundry place there?”

They did, and Red had used it a few times. He’d only had one change of clothes with him; it was honestly soothing to be able to slip into something different. He changed quickly, not bothering to hide himself. All the same, he didn’t look at Sans while he undressed. Sex wasn’t as far from his mind as he wanted to pretend it was, and Sans was beautiful. He didn’t want to give in to the urge to stare and possibly make his fiancé uncomfortable. 

Sans was the first to finish changing and got into bed. He pulled the covers down for Red, a silent urge to get him to lie down. Red did, slipping under the covers slowly. 

Fuck, but it felt good to lay in his own bed again. 

Sans turned on his side facing Red, and Red couldn’t help but do the same. Sans carefully reached out and put his hand over Red’s fingers clenched together. Red stared at Sans’ fingers, the ring still sitting pretty on the fourth one. His vision began to blur as tears formed in his sockets. He hated this; he wasn’t a crier. Crying was for the weak. But he couldn’t stop relieved tears from slipping down his face.

“i’m so sorry, sans,” he muttered, his soul clenching tightly. He grasped Sans’ hand and brought it to his teeth to press a kiss to the ring. “i love you so much. i’m so sorry.”

Sans scooted forward and pressed himself close. Red’s arms enveloped him, pulling him in tightly and holding him like he craved.

“i love you, too, red,” he whispered.

They stayed wrapped up in each other for a long moment, just taking in each other’s warmth and closeness.

“please tell me i ain’t dreamin’,” Red begged, unable to pull back.

“if you are then it’s a shared illusion and i’m happy to just stay here forever.”

Red huffed then sniffled. “i’d say i don’t know what the fuck came over me, but i think we both know that’s a lie.”

Sans nodded and tightened his hold. “lv isn’t something to be ashamed of, red.”

“it sure as fuck is when it causes shit like that. i can’t defend anythin’ i said or did last week, sans. i fucked up big time and i don’t even know what caused it.”

“your lv caused it, sweetheart. that’s all.” Sans began to rub his back soothingly, trying to ease Red’s mind a little.

It wasn’t helping. “you say that like it’s nothin’ to worry about. what if it happens again? what if i actually hurtcha next time? like physically?” He held a little tighter, burrowing his face into San’s shoulder. “what i said, sans…you shouldn’ just forgive that.”

Sans turned his head to kiss the side of Red’s. “i know i shouldn’t. i’ve thought a lot about this while you were gone, red. i do forgive you, but i think we’d both be happier if you look into starting therapy.”

Red’s face fell, but not in the upset way Sans had been expecting. He looked relieved like a huge weight had been lifted from him.

“i don’t deserve ya. never have. ‘course i’ll go to therapy. anythin’ you want me to do, i’ll do it if it means i get ta keep ya.”

Truth be told, he hadn’t thought about therapy in years. Edge had once tried to convince him to go, but he refused like the idiot he was. Edge had almost double the LV Red had, so it was no surprise that he had issues with his. He didn’t even have to get into a fight with Stretch to get him to go; he went all by himself like a grown-up. He was so much better than Red ever was. Sometimes it was hard to believe that Red was the one who raised him.

Regardless, Red knew exactly where to start. He needed to talk to Edge anyway. 

“thank you.” Sans leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Red’s mouth. 

Red wanted to argue, to tell him he shouldn’t thank him for anything, but he couldn’t speak. He kissed Sans back tentatively at first, careful not to hold too tight and to give Sans the opportunity to pull back if he wanted to. 

He did pull back a moment later, and Red let him go without so much as a grumble. It was difficult to keep his hands to himself when Sans’ hands were skimming up his ribs over his shirt, one coming to rest on his shoulder while the other slipped up to cup the side of his face. 

Sans smiled gently and met Red’s eye lights. “i’m so glad you’re home, red,” he said softly. “i really missed you.”

Red swallowed and nodded. He shouldn’t expect anything, but that gleam in Sans’ eye lights was as familiar as his touch. 

“i missed you, too,” he said gruffly. 

Sans scooted a fraction of an inch closer, and Red’s hands instinctively tightened, holding him possessively. He knew they still needed to talk about the past week. A soulfelt apology and some tears weren’t enough to make up for what he’d done, he knew that, but fuck if he couldn’t make himself pull back when Sans leaned in and kissed him deeply. 

He accepted the kiss eagerly, let his tongue twine with his lover’s as their hands began to wander. Oh, he’d missed this, the feel and taste of Sans so close to him. He’d spent many nights alone in his life, but he’d never felt as lonely as he had this past week. 

He couldn’t say if it was habit or desperation that drove him to push Sans to his back and hover over him, settle a knee between his legs as he kissed him deeper. When Sans pushed up on his shoulders, he pulled back immediately. 

“‘m sorry, sans,” he said as he started to back away. “it’s too soon, i’m sorry.”

But Sans caught his shirt before he could move too far away. 

“wait, red, no; it’s not too soon. i want you, i do.” He shifted uncomfortably back to his side, and Red couldn’t help but fear he was trying to convince himself that he wanted this just to keep Red here. The thought was like bile burning his magic. 

“sans, don’t do this to yourself. i ain’t leavin’, okay? you don’t gotta--”

Sans’ hand on his mouth cut off his words. “dude, i’m not gonna talk myself into something i don’t want. i know you didn’t come home just to fuck me. i know if i wasn’t ready to do this you’d be fine. but i am ready and i do want this. what i’m not sure about is if you want...y’know, the same...do you want to try something different?” 

Shame crept over Red like a rash, itching and burning with guilt over words he’d said but hadn’t meant. His LV had wanted to hurt, wanted Sans to fight him, to give him a reason to lash out, and he’d attacked anything and everything that might have been a vulnerability. 

He shook his head and kissed Sans lightly. “i love you, and i love everythin’ we do together. yeah, there’re some things i’d like to try eventually, but not now. now is when i wanna show you how happy i am with you just as you are.”

Sans nodded and pulled Red close again. “i like the sound of that.”

Red grinned and pushed him to his back again before climbing over him, settling himself between his legs. “i like the sound’a you.”

Sans snorted. “you’re such a softie.” His hands were already wandering, lifting up on Red’s nightshirt. 

Red kissed him wildly, pressing their bodies together even as Sans tried to get them undressed. “only for you, sweetheart,” he said between kisses. “only for you.”

Sans was just fine with that. 

Later, as they laid together in the warmth of their afterglow, Red stared at the ceiling and held Sans close to his ribs. He would never know what he’d done to deserve Sans and his kindness, his patience, but he was damn well going to do everything he could to make up for the mistakes he’d made. In a while, he’d call his brother to let him know he’d come home, and he’d get the information he needed to start looking into therapy. 

The road ahead wasn’t likely to be a smooth one. That didn’t matter. As long as Sans was beside him, he could handle anything. 

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact, “The Reason” is essentially the song that Red sings to Sans in the video.


End file.
